Cheap, Chinese-made nylon burkas
are flooding Afghanistan's north as consumers turn to affordable,
mass-produced fabrics -- but in Kabul a small, determined fashion house is
fighting to preserve the traditional textiles once integral to Afghan
culture.

Launched in 2006, "Zarif" -- "precious" in Persian -- commissions
traditional cotton and silk from artisanal weavers, then employs more than
two
dozen people -- mostly women -- to tailor and design the fabrics into
handcrafted, embroidered clothing.
But with cheaper imports saturating the market, they are struggling to
keep
local traditional methods afloat, says founder Zolaykha Sherzad.
Only decades ago, the textile industry was on par with Afghanistan's
legendary carpet trade, famed since the days of the old Silk Road.
During its heyday textiles were more than just fabrics, with their
patterns, colours and embroidery illuminating the origins and tribal history
of their makers.
"In the past, the fabrics were entirely embroidered, on the walls, the
cushions... the wedding dresses," says Sherzad.
"But now, we are trying hard just to keep them as ornaments on jackets
and
coats, to maintain the know-how," she adds, saying the decline in the craft
has put large numbers of women out of work who once were able to make a
living
at home.
With Zarif, she hopes to fill the gap while aiming to preserve
Afghanistan's textile traditions and designing contemporary takes on Afghan
fashion staples.

Fighting the market

A visit to the bazaar in northern Mazar-i-Sharif shows the challenge
she
faces.
There, bundles of striped and padded coats, or "chapans" -- popularised
in
the West by ex-President Hamid Karzai -- pile up in stacks at stalls.
"Too bright," she says, discarding the synthetic fabrics.
For many consumers, however, they have their appeal. The cheaper
knock-offs
are printed on nylon, rather than silk, closely replicating traditional
designs but at a third of the price.
"These cost 800 to 1,200 afghanis ($11 to $18), compared to 2,500 ($36)
for
a traditional chapan," explains Abdullah, a merchant.
Now only the rich can afford the handmade silk chapans, often buying them
as wedding gifts, while middle-class and working people opt for the
synthetic
designs.

Markets across Mazar also burst with the polyester burqas Afghan
women are
forced by tribal culture to don. But even the fabrics used for this
ubiquitous
garment come increasingly from abroad.
"China, India, Pakistan, everything comes from outside," Hashem, a dyer
and
weaver for Zarif, tells AFP in the courtyard of his mud house on the
outskirts
of Mazar from where he manages the 10 women who weave for him at home.
"In the old days I had 10 families working for me, today I have four," he
says while squeezing a skein of freshly dyed cotton.
"Before," he continues, "80 percent of the raw material came from the
local
market, today 80 percent comes from abroad."

Working women

In founding Zarif, Sherzad -- an architect by training -- wanted
above all
to promote female employment, banned under Taliban rule from 1996-2001 and
still the norm in large swathes of the country.
According to data provided by the World Bank, 19 percent of Afghan women
were employed in 2017 -- which excludes the informal agricultural sector.
Despite the economic crisis that has raged since the withdrawal of more
than 100,000 NATO troops in late 2014, Zarif still employs 26 employees in
its
courtyard workshop, located next to a mosque and its blaring call to
prayers.

About 60 percent of the team is female, including the director Nasima
along
with the production manager Sara. Two embroiderers work full time while an
additional 30 are called on at the discretion of the managers.
Since its creation, Zarif has trained more than 85 women -- but most of
them have given up their jobs after getting married at the request of
husbands
who are reluctant to accept the presence of other men near their spouses.
"The brake on women's employment continues to be their husbands" says
Sherzad.

Adapting to survive

To survive, Zarif relies on connections in Paris, where the company is
supported by French fashion brand "Agnes b.", along with a stable of
faithful
clientele in New York.
And even as she seeks to preserve, she is also forced to adapt, scouring
Afghanistan's antique shops in search of richly crafted garments that can be
refashioned into bags or the linings for men's jackets.

Silk encapsulates the challenge. Homespun silk from the western city
of
Herat was once used by Afghan producers for turbans. Now it is exported to
Iran.
"There's only one artisan left in Afghanistan that knows the craft,"
Sherzad says.
"It's necessary to train others, but for what? People no longer have the
means and young people no longer wear turbans. We have to invent something
else that uses silk." (AFP)